


Minding Poe

by theatrchy2004 (Terminal_Trekkie)



Series: Minding Matters [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminal_Trekkie/pseuds/theatrchy2004
Summary: Poe and Armitage face the first test of their new relationship.  Flu season!
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Series: Minding Matters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738927
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Minding Poe

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Minding Millicent!
> 
> This (and really any other fics in this series until such as a time as I deem otherwise) story takes place in a pre-COVID world.

To say Poe and Armitage were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship would be an understatement. Armitage couldn’t remember ever being this happy in his life. Even his co-workers noticed the change in him. It was unnerving. He’d always been polite, but cold. The first time Hux stopped to ask his secretary about her weekend, Lanzora had just stared at him, mouth open like a codfish, before answering, “Good, thanks.”

Armitage was feeling chipper as he got himself ready for work. As was their custom on the mornings they woke up apart, he’d sent a good morning text to Poe. There was no response waiting after he got out of the shower. Knowing Poe wasn’t always as on top of things as he was, he shot off another text asking, _Forget to set your alarm? ;-)_

He proceeded with his morning, checking his phone intermittently. When there was still no response by the time he was dressed and ready to go, Armitage was quite anxious. Had he done something wrong? He thought back over the last several days trying to determine what he might have done to cause Poe to give him the silent treatment. Then he started to worry. What if someone had broken into the apartment across the hall and murdered his boyfriend? Knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything until he knew all was well, he stepped across the hall and knocked on the door. After a minute of waiting and no signs of life on the other side, Armitage turned back to grab the spare key Poe had given him for emergencies. He was just about to unlock the door himself when it finally opened. 

“Coming, I’m coming,” a hoarse voice muttered out. “Oh, hey babe.”

Armitage blinked. Poe was clearly ill. His eyes were red, his skin clammy, and though he’d cocooned himself in a blanket, he was shivering with chills. Before Armitage could form words in response, Poe sneezed.

“Oh dear God!” the impeccably dressed ginger pulled the lapel of his blazer over his face as a shield.

“Sorry,” Poe smiled sheepishly. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“You _think_? Poe you look like death warmed over.”

Poe pouted, “No need to be so mean about it.”

Armitage rolled his eyes. “Oh for god’s sake. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” Not wanting to touch Poe, he waved his arms in front of him as a means of ushering the other man back into his apartment. Thankfully, Poe obeyed, looking very much like a wobbly Gumby, shuffling back to his bedroom wrapped head to toe in his green comforter. While they walked, Armitage took the opportunity to text Finn, letting him know Poe was sick and asking that he notify whoever at the school needed to be notified. He also texted Lanzora to advise her he’d be late to the office that day. 

As Poe settled himself back in bed, Armitage rummaged through his kitchen and medicine cabinet, retrieving a thermometer, a box of DayQuil and a glass of water. 

“Open,” he ordered as he approached the bed, wielding the thermometer. Poe sighed and complied. After a few moments it beeped. “101.4. Good lord, you’re burning up. Here, take this.” He deposited two gel caps in the other man’s palm and handed over the water. “I’m afraid I must still go to the office. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Poe closed his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there anything else you need before I go?”

“Hmm, a hug?”

“Oh darling, no offense, but I really can’t get sick right now.”

Poe pouted again. “Okay. Well… can Millie stay with me?”

Armitage bit his lip. He knew Poe couldn’t make Millicent sick, but that didn’t mean whatever germs he was harboring couldn’t transfer back to Hux if they got on her fur. She would have to stay with Poe till he was no longer contagious, which wouldn’t be too much of an issue as they’d already set her up with a litterbox and water fountain in Poe’s apartment, her little adventures across the hall still quite frequent. Could he manage without his cat for a few days?

Looking into the deep, brown, puppy dog eyes Poe was giving him, he knew he couldn’t say no. “Fine,” he sighed, “but she’ll have to stay with you until you’re better.”

“Mmkay,” Poe sniffed, closing his eyes. 

Armitage retrieved an indignant Millicent from her cat tree, plopping her onto Poe’s bed. She narrowed her eyes in disdain at Poe’s pitiful state before turning back to her guardian as though to say, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” After a moment though it seemed she’d decided to take pity on her favorite neighbor, curling up on the pillow next to where his head lay. 

Satisfied that Poe was settled, Amitage returned to his apartment where he showered again, nearly scrubbing his skin raw in an attempt to wash away any remnants of the plague. Dressed in a new suit, he finally made his way to work, all the while wondering at how after being alone for so long, his life had become so enmeshed with another person’s that he now found himself in a nursemaid role. 

* * *

Poe rarely got sick. He’d always been healthy, and after working in the public school system nearly twenty years, his immune system was practically Fort Knox. So when something was able to breach his defenses, it knocked him on his ass. 

He’d felt fine the night before, but when he woke up that morning he felt like he’d been hit by a bus. Everything hurt, he was freezing and he couldn’t breathe through the congestion in his nose. It wasn’t long before he fell back asleep, sleeping through his alarm and his boyfriend’s text messages. Said boyfriend had come to check on him, leaving him in the care of Millicent, before leaving for work himself. 

Poe vaguely recalled all this through the haze of his fever when he woke up again an hour later. Shuffling into the kitchen he poured a glass of orange juice and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before settling in on the couch. He opened his laptop to try grading some papers, but when the letters just swam around before his eyes he gave up. 

Turning on the TV, he thought of Armitage. He should feel self-conscious that his new boyfriend had seen him in such a state, but he was too miserable to care about that; he really just wanted someone to take care of him. Pouting, he wished Tage had stayed home with him, even though the logical part of his brain that still existed somewhere in there told him it made no sense for Armitage to miss work. At least he had Millicent, who had made her way from the bedroom to his new spot for convalescing. Together they curled up and settled in for _Gladiator_ , which was just starting. 

* * *

When Armitage returned home that evening, he came armed with supplies. Normally, he would have avoided any contact whatsoever with someone as ill as Poe. He hated being sick with the fire of a thousand suns. He was the type to send his staff home at the slightest sign of the sniffles. Yet here he was, determined to nurse Poe back to health with as little damage to his own immune system as possible. 

He’d sent his boyfriend texts throughout the day, requesting temperature updates and reminding him to drink plenty of fluids. Not every text got an immediate response, which Armitage hoped meant Poe was sleeping. 

Before entering the contagion zone, Hux changed out of his suit and donned a face mask and gloves. Hoisting some of the groceries he’d bought into his arms he crossed the hall to find Poe putting about in the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” he asked hastily, setting the bags on the counter.

“Making soup,” Poe muttered miserably, struggling to pop the lid open on the can of chicken noodle soup. 

“For god’s sake, go sit down. I’ll handle this.”

“Kay. Thanks,” Poe gave him a small smile before wrapping his arms around the ginger’s waist and nuzzling into his chest.

Armitage craned his neck back as far as he could get it away from the man wrapped around him. “Yes. Well. Off you go,” he gently patted him on the head. Thankfully Poe needed no further urging to collapse back on the couch while Hux went about preparing the soup.

When the food was ready, Armitage delivered to Poe a bowl of hot soup, some sliced pieces of baguette, a glass of water, a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. 

“Eat up, and drink all that. Your kitchen has been sanitized, so if you need anything else, text me and I will retrieve it so you don’t further contaminate the area,” Armitage turned to go.

“You’re leaving?” Poe whined pitifully. 

Armitage sighed. “I won’t be far, you know that.”

“Can’t you stay?”

“I think it would be best if we limited our contact until you’re better.”

“Please?”

Armitage pursed his lips behind the mask. Those damned puppy dog eyes again. “Very well. But I will stay here,” he indicated the armchair before pointing back to the couch, “and you will stay there.”

Poe smiled, satisfied. 

“What are we watching?” Armitage asked. 

“Princess Bride.”

“Never seen it.”

Poe’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You’ve _never_ seen _The Princess Bride_?!” Armitage simply shook his head. “Omigod, we have to start from the beginning,” he grabbed the remote to rewind the film. 

“Very well, but after this is over you are going to bed.”

* * *

Poe had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, which came as no surprise given his current state. Armitage stayed to watch the rest of the movie, only because he knew Poe would grill him on it later, of course, not because he was enjoying it in any way. Still, he found himself chuckling at the jokes, enthralled by the sword fights, and silently cheering when true love won the day. Not that he would ever admit it if pressed.

Getting Poe to bed had been an ordeal. Though shorter, he was the heavier of the two, and while Armitage wasn’t exactly weak, Poe was definitely the stronger of the two (when he wasn’t plague-ridden). He determined quickly that he could not carry the other man to bed. It took a few attempts to wake the sickling enough to maneuver him upright. It’s possible Poe was still asleep as they stumbled back to his bedroom, given how frequently he bumped into the doorways and other obstacles on the way. Millicent was no help as she sat in judgment from her perch on his dresser. 

Once Poe was settled in the bed, Armitage let out a sigh of relief before turning to Millicent. “It’s your watch now, young lady,” he indulged her with a quick scritch before scurrying across the hall to get away from the plague emanating the atmosphere in Poe’s apartment. 

In the following days, they settled into a routine. Armitage would let himself in in the morning, bringing Poe a light breakfast in bed, complete with orange juice, tea, and his morning dosage of DayQuil. He always made sure Poe had plenty of water and orange juice at his disposal, and that any sustenance he might need through the day required as little preparation as possible before heading to the office. 

Upon his return in the evenings, he often found Poe had relocated himself to the couch, a movie playing on the TV. The chances of finding Poe sleeping through said movie were 50/50. Armitage would sanitize the kitchen before preparing a healthy dinner which they would eat in the living room while watching whatever nonsense Poe’s fever-addled brain took comfort in. 

By the third day, Poe was starting to feel a bit better. His fever was starting to come down a bit and he didn’t look quite so miserable. The only downside was that his body had reached the stage where it was trying to expel the virus from his body by force, resulting in the massacre of a small forest, if the number of tissues strewn about the apartment was anything to go by. Armitage was appalled by the sight when he returned that evening. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t littered with used up tissues. Armed with a trash bag and a trash picker, he roamed the apartment cleaning up the mess, muttering the whole way. 

Poe sipped the tea Armitage had foisted on him before waging war on his flat. “Babe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Armitage snapped. “Your body needs to rest to heal, and this can’t wait. Not unless you _want_ to prolong your illness by allowing these germs to fester and reinfect you?” A ginger brow arched over his face mask.

“Whatever you say, dear,” Poe rolled his eyes. 

The next morning Poe was feeling much better. He was still tired and sniffly, but his fever had broken. Not well enough to return to the school, but well enough to get some work done.

“What are you doing? You need to rest,” Armitage fretted when he found Poe working on his laptop instead of sleeping. He set the breakfast tray on the nightstand.

Poe gave him a grateful smile before sipping his tea. “It’s fine. I’m feeling much better. See? My fever’s broken.” 

Armitage frowned behind his mask. “Still, you shouldn’t push yourself.”

“Babe, I think I can handle grading a few papers.”

Green eyes narrowed at him. “Very well. But you must promise me you won’t push yourself too hard. If you’re tired, you stop and take a nap. And don’t neglect your hydration schedule.”

“Scout’s honor,” Poe saluted him with a cheeky grin. 

Once he was assured Poe wasn’t going to take any daring risks that might hinder his progress towards health, Armitage left for work. Poe wondered if Armitage had always been this bossy or if it only came out when he went into caretaker mode. Not that Poe minded. Even though Armitage refused any unnecessary contact, he’d poured every fiber of his being into nursing Poe back to health. It was always nice to feel cared for. 

* * *

Armitage did not wake Poe the next morning, which was fine really. It was Saturday, so the other man was probably sleeping in. 

Meanwhile, Poe felt like he’d woken with a new lease on life. It might have only been a few days, but being sick always made time drag on like an eternity. Suddenly he was able to breathe again and the fever felt like a distant memory. 

After Millicent had finished her breakfast, Poe decided it was probably time she returned home. Gathering her in his arms he crossed the hall and knocked on the door. 

Nothing. He checked his watch. It was 9:30. His boyfriend was usually up by this hour, even on the weekends. He knocked again. Finally the door opened.

“Hey,” he greeted hastily, “I thought you might want this little fuzz bucket back… Oh, babe,” his voice took a pitying tone.

Armitage stood before him, wrapped in a blanket, eyes bloodshot and angry. “You,” he hissed. “You did this to me.”

Poe bit back a chuckle. “I’m sorry, Tage. I really didn’t mean to get you sick. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Even sick, Armitage managed to sniff haughtily. “Normally I’d say I don’t need your pity, but seeing as you brought this plague upon my house, I’ll accept our assistance.” 

Poe did chuckle then. “How gracious of you. Should I keep Millie in quarantine then?” he teased.

“Give me my cat,” the ginger reached out hastily, cuddling Millicent to his chest. His intentions regarding her quarantine had clearly been for naught, so why bother now.

Poe settled into the nursing role quickly, making tea and breakfast in his boyfriend’s kitchen before settling with him on the couch. Armitage sipped his tea miserably, whining a bit about the honey not being stirred in properly. Apparently Tage was just as bossy as a patient as he’d been as a nurse. 

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” Poe shook his head, chuckling.

“What do you mean?” Armitage asked, oblivious. 

“Never mind. Let’s watch a movie. Any requests?”

“Um… what about that Princess movie?”

“ _The Princess Bride?”_

Armitage felt his cheeks warm, and not from the fever. “Yes, er, you fell asleep halfway through the other day. Since you seemed to like it so much, I thought maybe you’d like to finish it.”

“Right,” Poe’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying you didn’t like it?”

Armitage scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s all nonsense, fairy tales and true love and all that.”

“So we’re watching it for me. Not because you enjoy it,” Poe was clearly not convinced. 

“Yes, precisely. Think of it as my payment to you for taking care of me.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Poe set the movie up before settling back on the couch. A few minutes into the movie he noticed Armitage seemed to be growing restless. “What’s up, babe?”

Armitage sighed. “I realise this is going to sound hypocritical, seeing as I refused your requests these last few days, but… could you hold me?” 

“Awww, Tage. You’re right, that does sound hypocritical,” he teased. When Armitage pouted though, he smiled warmly at him before pulling the other man into his lap. “As you wish,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Armitage relaxed into his embrace. This certainly wasn’t the way he planned to spend his weekend, but if the next 48 hours meant more cuddles with his man, he wasn’t going to complain. 

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, pre-COVID world, but Hux is a bit of a a germophobe. :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments give me life.


End file.
